


Technology Miscommunication

by PaolaWarbler



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Humour, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 22:50:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1582262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaolaWarbler/pseuds/PaolaWarbler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America and England are checking in with the G8 meeting via Skype. Sadly for everyone, that doesn't go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Technology Miscommunication

“America, come on!” England said, righting the web camera on America’s desktop computer. There are five minutes until they’re going to sign in. England looked at the closed door and sighed. “Idiot.” He muttered under his breath. He signed onto the video-chatting app and went to the chat room they were using to communicate with the rest of the countries. “Now, if that git would get into this room. AMERICA!” England called out. America walked into the room, his tie undone and looking disheveled. England narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck took you so long?”  
America grinned. “Sorry, dude. I took a nap after earlier.” America winked and England blushed.  
“Shut up, you git.” England muttered. America pushed England aside and sat down in his chair. He winced a bit but then continued fixing his tie. “Idiot.” England muttered, lovingly. “Here let me do it.”   
England start to knot America’s tie but then America muttered, “Yeah, that’s right.”  
England looked up sharply. “What?”  
America grinned cheekily and said, “Oh, nothing. You know, just fix my tie like the good little wife you are.”  
England’s eyes narrowed and his cheeks flushed with rage. “Excuse me?”  
America grinned wolfishly. “You know, I think you’d make a lovely wife.”  
England growled and straddled America’s hips. “You think I’d make a good wife?” He whispered in America’s ear. “Well, it seems someone forgot their lesson this morning. Would you like a refresher, lad?”  
America whimpered and England loosened America’s half-done tie. He kissed America fiercely. America let out a gasp and England used that to his advantage, licking the inside of America’s mouth.   
He let them go for air and gasped in America’s ear. “Not even going to put up a fight?” He licked the shell of America’s ear softly. “Now, who’s the wife?”  
America let out a moan as England nipped his ear.  
“Come on, you can’t make this easy for me.” England said, ripping open the top half of America’s shirt.  
“Oh, I wasn’t planning to.” America said, grasping the English man’s thigh and reaching around to pull him closer.

 _Meanwhile_  
“Okay, let’s check in with England and America.” Germany said, checking his watch. Japan had finished hooking up the computer on the projector. And the computer was now at the front of the table. Germany nodded when he noticed that they were already signed in to the chat room. Japan clicked on it and the screen went dark for just a moment. Then they were faced with an interesting sight.  
“Honhonhonhon!” France laughed. On the screen, England was straddling America, whispering something in his ear.  
“What is this?” Germany yelled.  
Japan was silently staring at the screen. Germany thought he saw a drop of blood fall from his nose but he was too distracted.  
Italy clutched a hand to his heart. “Ve~! Dios mio!”  
Romano glared at the screen. “Fucking hamburger bastard.”  
France slid towards him and said, “I’m pretty sure England is going to be doing that for us.”  
At France’s words, the group stared at the screen. England was now pulling America’s cowlick and whispering.  
“Ooh, how I wish I could hear what they’re saying.” France moaned.  
China shook his head. “No way. Someone turn this off.”  
Everyone turned to Japan but he was too busy nose-bleeding all over the table.  
“Ugh, I’ll try to fix this.” Germany walked up to the computer but he didn’t know what he was doing. He clicked a button on the computer. Sound suddenly exploded through the speakers.

 _Back at America’s house._  
“Say it.” England was saying, pulling sharply on America’s cowlick.  
“No!” America moaned, head thrown back.  
“I said, say it!” England gritted out, pulling even harder.  
“Ugh!” America groaned. “I-I- I’m yours.”  
England sat back on America’s thighs, pleased. “Oh, yes. You are mine. Always will be.” With one final tug on the cowlick, England let go and started working his way down America’s body. America moaned, his eyes fluttering shut. “Take off your clothes, slowly. I want a show.”  
(France, at this point, was clinging onto Japan’s arm, breathing harshly.)  
England got off of America and stared at him. America slowly took off his tie, eyes focused on England. He played with the dip in his collarbone and slowly walked his fingers down to the buttons England didn’t rip off. He ghosted over his nipple and let out a moan. England was undoing his own trousers, unable to help himself.  
“Yes, just like that, America.”  
America lowered his eyelids and looked up at England through his eyelashes. “Are you going to fuck me hard, England?”  
England moaned and pressed the heel of his hand against his erection. “Yes, love. I’m going to fuck you so hard that the only thing you’ll be able to say is my name.”  
America let out a moan, quickly unbuttoning the last buttons on his shirt. He took it off and flung it in the direction of the computer.

 _Inside the G8 Meeting Room_  
France was gripping the edge of the table, his knuckles were white. He was panting and his hair fell in his face. Japan had bled all over the table and was currently lying in a pool of his own blood. China had run off to throw up in the bathroom. Germany was trying to comfort a panicked Italy who was crying at him to make it stop. Russia was creepily in the background, smiling at everything.  
Spain had shown up to the meeting a few minutes after the airing. He started at the screen for a while before grabbing Romano’s hand and running out of the room.  
“You fucking tomato-bastard! Let go of me, you fucking pervert!” Romano’s screams were heard all the way from the hall.   
They had heard the fabric hit the camera and Germany looked up, relieved to see the camera was now blocked. But they could still hear.  
“Oh, England, r-right there. Yes.”  
“You’re so beautiful like this, moaning just for me. Fuck, America. Next time, I’m just going to cuff you to the bed so I can see you withering an begging for me to touch you. Would you like that, love?”  
“Y-y-yes, England.” America moaned.   
They heard the sound of skin slapping on skin and Japan’s pool of blood got bigger.   
France had run out of the room. “This is too much!”  
Italy had curled up in a ball in Germany’s lap, rocking back and forth. Germany froze at Italy’s friction. “Um, Italy-”  
“No, make it stop! All I wanted was pasta!”  
Germany fought the rising blush in his cheeks.  
China had just returned from the bathroom for America to scream, “England! Yes, fucking Christ. Harder!”  
He ran out of the room, again, hand over mouth.  
Russia, of course, was just in the corner of the room, smiling creepily. They heard America scream England’s name but this time, he was joined by England screaming his. It was quiet for a long while. Then they heard some shuffling around.  
“God, you are so beautiful. I love you.” England said.  
“I love you too.” America replied.

 _Inside America’s house_  
The fabric was slipped off the computer and England froze.  
“Fuck!” England said, suddenly.  
America jolted. “What? What’s wrong, England?”  
“You bloody wanker! Look what you did!”  
America sighed, so much for their moment. He ambled to where England was staring at the screen in shock. America’s eyes widened.  
Japan was lying in a pool of blood. Italy was in Germany’s lap, crying. Russia was staring at them, smiling.  
“Oh, hey, guys!” America said, cheerily.  
Italy just started sobbing harder.  
“You fucking bastard!” England said, blood rushing to his cheeks. “I’m going to throttle you for this.”  
America bent over and whispered in England’s ear. “Why don’t you whip me?”  
England was suddenly intrigued by the idea when he remembered that everyone was staring at him. “Fucking idiot.” He mumbled as he closed out of the application.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Okay, so yeah. This was basically an excuse to 1) write smut and 2) write a fic about a fanart I saw. It might suck and sorry, I didn’t get to the nitty-gritty smut. :(


End file.
